


Special Diplomacy

by RobinTrigue



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/F, I dub this the good ship Phasia, Post-The Force Awakens, Unreliable Narrator, mainly in that she totally has a crush on Leia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 19:11:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leia knows what she wants and doesn’t mind saying so. Phasma is... professionally intrigued. (Spoilers for TFA)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Diplomacy

 

The mission was simple: keep them talking. The destruction of Starkiller had hit the First Order hard, and they would be wiped out quickly if the Resistance remained at full strength before the Order had a chance to regroup. A fake diplomatic mission, calling for a ceasefire in exchange for certain trade rights, would keep the Resistance harmless and distracted long enough to make a dent in their firepower.

Phasma was... it was against her training to be nervous, but she couldn’t deny to herself that what she was feeling fit that description. She was the most senior member of this mission, and it would require a level of deception that had never been demanded of her. She had never been trained as a spy; it wasn’t stormtrooper style, to sneak around like rats in the shadows, that was what they had lowlife bounty hunter scum for. But it was hard to trust anyone outside of the Order right now, and her loyalty was unquestionable, so she was honoured with the assignment.

Technically, she told herself, technically it wasn’t spy business at all; she was merely withholding information from the enemy, which she could absolutely do. She already had done on occasion, before her promotion, when she’d been the last member standing of her squadron in unfriendly territories. Those had been much shorter periods of time though, only lasting until she or her backup destroyed those detaining her. For this mission, she will require tact to convince General Organa that General Hux had been killed in the explosion and that the Order was now being led by someone with more pacifist tendencies. With the First Order still in seeming disarray, it was likely the Resistance wouldn’t have enough intel to confirm or deny this.

Failure was not an option, so Phasma would not fail. She would find a way to navigate the liberties Hux had permitted her when outlining the mission, however unnatural it felt.

_

Landing on D’Qar was the same as landing on any other planet; the atmosphere was similar to that of the new Order base, though Phasma would obviously not be sharing that information. She had a vague memory of feeling excitement the first time she was deployed to battle, all those years ago, at touching down on alien soil. But excitement was for children. What she felt now was the same as what she felt with every touch down: adrenaline for the battle to come. She would have to keep that in check this time. She tried to consciously move her hand away from her weapon. Only a fool would shoot when they were ordered not to, but Phasma felt like these Resistance weaklings would interpret readiness to shoot just as badly.

Her troops held position as the landing barge touched down. They’d been trained well. They wouldn’t have anything to do for the first half of the mission except look official. Phasma was nominally the head of the operation, but was actually working in unison with Jinks. He was to pose as her assistant while they kept the Order alerted of what went on until it was time for the attack. Hux had informed her that it would not look unusual to have someone taking notes at a diplomatic meeting, and she deferred to his judgement.

The envoys sent out to meet them consisted of surprisingly high-ranking officials. General Organa herself was in front, as well as a Twi’leck ambassador from the remains of the Republic, and several human captains. Phasma recognised the pilot Dameron on the fringes of the group, but no sign of FN-2187. Probably hiding, the coward traitor scum.

Phasma wasted no time walking out of the barge, choosing to hold her head high rather than looking down, despite Organa being some heads shorter. Diplomacy would mean having to treat these people as if they were equals, but that’s no reason to appear weak.

“Captain Phasma and Lieutenant Jinks. General Neeble of the First Order sends his regards,” she announced.

Organa stood in front of her squarely, her hands clasped behind her back. “I’m General Organa at your service. This is Ambassador Hosdiwa and Major Ematt. We’re grateful that the First Order is taking an interest in finding a peaceful solution to its differences with the Republic.”

Phasma couldn’t deny the charge that went through her body when Organa said her name. General Organa was a formidable enemy and a master tactician. She had been a danger to the First Order and its values for decades, since before the first Death Star, and any solider with tactical training was wise to study her battle history. Though she was the enemy, Phasma couldn’t deny the heady rush of being so near her, the excitement that she would be able to watch her plan, fight her directly when the order came. If Phasma wound up being the one to kill Leia Organa, well. Pride is an unpermitted emotion, but that certainly would be something she would expect to receive admiration for.

“General Neeble’s dedication to building a diplomatic relationship will be good for both our people,” Phasma lied. Thankfully, she had been provided with scripts to answer most questions, so it was unlikely she would be caught off guard during the meetings.

Organa nodded once. “Then shall we begin?”

_

It was instantly obvious to Phasma that D’Qar is no longer the Resistance’s main base. The room they were meeting in is far too spacious, and clearly used to contain more computers, probably one of the tech hubs of the base. They must have been relocating, just as the Order was. From the corner of her field of vision, she saw Jinks messaging Hux on his screen, probably the same observation. Jinks was a new promotion, a good choice. He was ruthless and adaptable, a good companion to have on an undercover mission.

The Republic ambassador made the first statements when they were all seated at the table. “The Republic would like it clear that these meetings will not devolve into threats of violence, nor will they prevent us from reacting to violence done upon us. The unspeakable acts committed by the First Order -”

“General Organa, could you please explain in what way is General Neeble expected to be responsible for the reprehensible actions of the late General Hux, who was his superior at the time?” Jinks asked, his voice sharp. Good, thought Phasma. It should have been her making the first objection, but she couldn’t fake anger and indignance the same way he could. On Organa’s left, Phasma heard Major Ematt snarl angrily at the word ‘reprehensible.’

“I’m sure we’ll keep in mind that the First Order’s current attempt at diplomacy is an admirable step towards peace,” Organa said, speaking over her subordinate’s outburst. “However the Ambassador’s point still stands that you represent an organisation known for its acts of terror.”

Phasma cleared her throat, and Organa’s eyes snapped towards her. “General Organa - ”

“Please, call me Leia,” she said with a smile, and it made her pause because this was clearly an order meant for her, not the table at large. It was unexpected, but she persevered, trying to ignore the heady rush of being spoken to by such a great warrior.

“Leia,” she began again. “The First Order merely represents a collection of beliefs which anyone may or may not ascribe to. We are prepared to abandon these negotiations if it is our beliefs that come under question, and not the despicable manner in which the Resistance is attempting to cut us off from resources that are necessary for us to feed our people.”

“Oh so you need a fleet’s worth of silicone and plutonium for food now, do you?” spat Ematt.

And so it continued. Jinks was silent for the most part, relaying everything important to the Order – how many ships remained on-site, whether the Republic seemed shaken, how battle-ready the Resistance lackeys were. They certainly didn’t seem ready. Everyone looked tired, everyone except for Leia, who despite acting as the nominal peacemaker at the table looked like she could have her blaster out of its holster in an instant. Her eyes were lively and dancing, and Phasma could swear they settled on her far more than they did on anyone else.

Something about the quiet way Leia reminded the people on her side of the table that the First Order weren’t their enemies, and the way they listened to her without argument (though they were happy to make more accusations every time a new topic was broached) made Phasma suspicious and impressed. She had expected more righteous fury from the Resistance leader. The more it Leia defended the Order without being questioned for it, the more Phasma began to suspect Leia knew exactly what was happening, that this was all a front.

Phasma kept the illusion up as best she could, doing her upmost to appear dedicated to these negotiations. Hux had advised her not to agree to anything that was put forth on the first day, as apparently she wouldn’t be expected to back down in an actual meeting, but to appear more willing to put up with whatever they offered on future days. It was a complicated game, and Phasma would much rather have pulled out her blaster there and then, but she needed to wait. The Order ships would be attacking the rest of the Resistance as soon as they discovered their location, and she knew Jinks would inform her when it was time.

Feeling antsy, she thrummed her fingers on the table until she realised it would betray her emotions. She opted instead to pick up the data pad with its discussion points, flipping through it idly before she looked up and noticed Leia staring at her again. She was biting her lip, and didn’t seem to be paying attention to what was said at all.

Phasma couldn’t help looking down at herself, wondering if she had something on her suit that was making Leia stare like that. Her movement made Leia blink, like she was coming out of a reverie, and she cleared her throat.

“Yes thank you Ambassador Hosdiwa, you make a very fine point. But since we don’t seem to be making much progress today, perhaps we all ought to retire and try again tomorrow? I’m sure our guests are very tired from their travels.” Her tone was far more businesslike than polite, and Phasma wondered if she was tired of formalities also.

Everyone stood. Phasma figured she’d be meeting privately with Jinks and her men when the others dispersed, to hear news of what their superiors thought of the situation on D’Qar. But looking down, she discovered Leia staring up at her helmet.

"You're very tall," she says. Phasma says nothing - it's not a question, so there's nothing to reply. Leia smiles at her, her face expressing an emotion Phasma does not recognise but can’t help but find... interesting. Something in Phasma's chest flutters.

"What would you say to some... special diplomacy?" Leia asked. Phasma thought she knew what Leia was implying, and well, it's not absolutely outside the parameters of the mission. She licked her lips before nodding.

"Yes, I think I would be amenable to that situation," Phasma replied.

"Good. Follow me." Leia led her away from the crowd of more minor delegates.

_

Her quarters were subtly decorated, with a cushioned chair in one corner and a painting of a spired city in front of a mountain range hanging above the bed. There was a desk against the wall, but all sensitive information must have been carefully stowed in the drawers because there was nothing on it save a small, leafy plant Phasma didn’t recognise.

"I like powerful women," Leia said as they entered. "I like them even more when I can see their faces."

Phasma swallowed, knowing it's strictly against regulations to remove one's helmet. And yet... She told herself that this could help the mission, that it's a grey area falling under her orders to adapt to some of the Resistance mannerisms, make them trust her more. But really, she couldn’t resist Leia's power - everything she'd read about her, about the men she's taken down, entire battalions. That power, it was alluring.

Phasma reached up slowly and removed her helmet. Leia smiled, somewhat hungrily. "Hello Captain," she murmurs.

Phasma didn’t know what Leia is responding to in her face, so she didn’t bother to react. Something in her was aware that this was flirtation, a tactic they’re briefed on in early training so they would know to resist it, but really the briefing was unnecessary because flirtation isn’t something a trained stormtrooper would respond to anyway.

Though some sex was permitted between stormtroopers of the same rank, seduction and connection were not; anyone who had sex with the same partner a certain number of times was expected to report for partial reconditioning to ensure no emotional attachments formed. Sometimes cadets would make jokes about sexual reconditioning, implying promiscuity or somesuch. Those jokes were usually reconditioned out of them. The thought made Phasma smile. That joke was funny because it was true. The First Order wasn’t a place for weak judgements. No one lasted long when they tried to assign attributes to individuals which are irrelevant to their ability to carry out orders.

Here in Leia’s quarters, the general was looking her up and down with admiration on her face, though Phasma was still in full armour save her helmet. The adrenaline of being on a mission was still coursing through her veins, so it would be a relief to have a bit of physical activity to take the edge off. Had it been anyone other than Leia Organa, Phasma would feel she was debasing herself for the sake of the mission, but if having sex with an admired enemy was what it took to be a spy, she could accept that duty. Hux had said she was to make her own calls as to appropriate behaviour when mingling with the Resistance scum, provided she did her best that she and her soldiers remain on their good side.

And, sickeningly, despite Leia’s misguided views and lifestyle, Phasma did want to be on her good side.

“You can leave your blaster on the side table, I don’t think we’ll be needing them,” said Leia as she set her own weapons down – the blaster from her belt and a pair of knives out of her boots. Phasma obeyed, knowing that even if this woman had hidden weapons in her room, which was more than likely, she would still be able to defeat her in hand-to-hand combat easily.

She set her helmet on the table and unholstered her blasters. As she dropped them she felt the unexpected pressure of a hand running down her backplate. She stiffened slightly.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” came Leia’s voice from behind her. “I’m just admiring. It’s not every day a tall, handsome woman such as yourself finds herself in my quarters.”

“Do you want me to take my armour off?” Phasma asked, turning around to face her.

Leia smiled a little. “I’m not your commanding officer, and I wouldn’t command you to if I were,” she said. “I just thought there was a chance you and I might share similar interests. Stormtroopers are allowed to have interests, surely?”

Phasma couldn’t help but smirk at the euphemism. “Well, we certainly don’t encourage wild insubordination in our soldiers like you do.” It’s an insult, because she won’t stand for whatever slight Leia thought she was making, but she hoped it was a mild enough insult that Leia would still permit them to have sex.

Leia, for some reason, laughed. It’s a light, cheery sound, one which made Phasma wish she understood this woman better. “Kid, something like half of my career has been wild insubordination. It’s basically the only way to get anything done. Everyone should try it once.”

Phasma frowned, because not only did that sound like a terrible idea, but the last time one of her soldiers had been insubordinate she’d ended up in a trash compactor. Not exactly the kinds of victories Leia was probably referring to. But she still wanted to know more, wanted to understand more of this woman’s brain. Phasma would not be bringing any traitorous ideas back to the Order base, absolutely not, but if she could learn from Organa’s tactical mind, understand her way of thinking, then she could have a definite advantage over the Resistance in the battles to come.

She watched as Leia shucked her plain waistcoat and threw it over the chair in the far corner of the room and turned so they were face to face. The general’s face was bright; she was such a small woman, but full of such energy, like a neutron star. Yes, Phasma wanted to know her better.

“Now, as appealing as it is to have a woman in armour standing to attention in my bedroom, I had been hoping for something a little different,” Leia drawled, standing in front of Phasma with her hands on her hips. “But if you’re not on board, I could of course ask a protocol droid to show you to your quarters.”

Phasma had been having trouble following this strange woman’s foreplay, the conversation where the things she said seemed layered with emotions that were either sex or comedy, emotions that Phasma would never stoop to but now kind of wished she could, if only for ease of communication. But she did understand now that Leia was waiting for some sort of signal to initiate the sex, either verbal or physical. Leia didn’t seem the type to wait for long so Phasma didn’t have time to push away the excitement she felt at the thought, to redirect the adrenaline that coursed through her from being this close to her enemy – she didn’t have time to detach her arousal from her emotions like she should. She had to move fast, so she reached out with one gauntleted hand to wrap around the back of the general’s neck, leant down, and pressed their lips together. Joy and arousal blossomed deep within her.

Leia reached up with one hand to grasp the top of her breastplate, tugging Phasma down further, throwing her off balance only slightly. The surprise of the movement made her blink and sharply inhale, and she felt Leia’s tongue brushing against her lips. Phasma felt her face redden as she suddenly became a little dizzy.

The way she was feeling was surely inappropriate, she thought in the back of her head as her other hand tugged on the side of Leia’s grey jumpsuit to pull her in closer. Sex is meant to be a way to relieve physical pressure, not to increase it. There was no protocol for sex with an enemy, but physical overwhelm must surely be even more inappropriate in that scenario than with designated peers. And yet... yet she was allowed to do certain things while undercover, to make the Resistance believe she was assimilating to their values. She was allowed to take diplomatic action without clearing it first with a superior. And she would absolutely undergo reconditioning when she got back in case this became anything more than sex, which it obviously wouldn’t because Leia was a dangerous, beautiful enemy who could wipe out entire armies with meagre equipment and little preparation time.

Phasma moaned accidentally.

Leia pulled back from the kiss, though their hands still held onto one another’s bodies. Her eyes gleamed with arousal. “You still thinking about removing your armour?” she asked.

_

The sex was like nothing Phasma had felt before, nothing she’d dreamt of. She’d expected from Leia’s brusque manner that sex with her would be like the sex Phasma had with her peers, a means to an end. But once Phasma was undressed, Leia slowed down, taking the time to explore her body with her hands, her tongue, until Phasma was trembling and far more vulnerable than she should be near an enemy, begging for her touch.

She did her best to balance the scales, pulling Leia’s jumpsuit off and kissing her firmly on the neck. Leia gasped and murmured “oh Captain, yes, keep doing that.” She took one of Phasma’s hands in her own and moving it down her body, showing Phasma what she wanted. The feel of her smooth, warm skin under Phasma’s calloused fingers made the air feel charged with electricity.

Leia never stopped talking, a swirling mix of compliments, pleas and moans that made Phasma feel dizzy, but she didn’t want to pause and collect herself, she wanted to go further and make Leia feel everything it was possible to feel. But then Leia rolled them over so Phasma was on her back. She smiled down at her, then bent her head to kiss Phasma’s breast. This time, Phasma was the one who gasped. Leia rubbed her hands down Phasma’s sides, to her hips, behind, kissing lower and lower, and soon it became hard for Phasma to think at all.

_

“I have to admit, I’m surprised,” said Leia afterwards, tracing circles with one finger on Phasma’s exposed stomach. “I didn’t think you bucketheads went for this sort of thing. Still, I’m glad; I can never resist a tall woman with good shoulders and a firm hand with a blaster.”

“Why did you offer if you didn’t know what I would do?” Phasma asked.

Leia’s finger ran gently over some of the scars Phasma had accumulated, drifting from the blaster scar she’d received in training, to the Rancor claw marks, to the chemical burns from when they’d landed on the acid sea of Marinus. “Because I wanted to. Don’t you ever go out on a limb? Take risks in a fight?”

“There’s no need to hold back. One woman’s life isn’t a great loss in any fight.”

“So you’re saying sex and affection are things you need to hold yourself back from, but not getting killed? Your pleasure is more dangerous and valuable than your entire life in the eyes of the Order?”

Phasma wasn’t sure what to say to this. She didn’t want to be silent while she considered it – failure to reply while in a conversation with a peer is a sign of weakness – so she responded instead to Leia’s initial surprise that she’d engaged with her at all. “My actions today were outside of usual functioning parameters, but diplomatic assignments allow flexibility within those parameters anyway.”

Leia laughed. It was funny how she made the noise seem non-threatening. “Independent thought, how taboo! Still, it was fun, right?”

Phasma considered for a moment. She had taken actions that wouldn’t be allowed, yes, but she was still going to kill Leia in the coming fight so it wouldn’t matter, would it? She hadn’t disobeyed any direct orders, and being creative with her interpretations hadn’t done her or the mission any harm.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Quite fun.”

_

Three days later, escaping in a stolen Y-Wing, Phasma managed to escape her X-Wing pursuers but hadn’t managed to kill General Leia. Everything had gone according to plan, except the Resistance had recovered from the shock of the first wave of attack faster than expected, and they had proceeded to retaliate from a corner she and the rest of the ground force hadn’t been prepared for. Leia herself had killed Jinks and two of the better stormtroopers before her own soldiers had pushed her to safety.

They had been too creative, Phasma realised. A memory jumped in her mind of a tongue running down her shoulder blade. Perhaps, she thought, it would be better not to erase the things she had learnt. While it would obviously be inappropriate for a lesser officer to act against their training, she knew her loyalty was unwavering. And it could prove useful, if she became able to emulate the Resistance’s on the fly tactics, especially now the Order had fewer men and needed to conserve its forces. Fight smarter, relying less on strength.

Yes, she concluded as she finished the calculations for the hyperspace jump. It’s really only sensible that she decline to submit for reconditioning. There was no need for Hux or Kylo Ren to know about what had gone on, and it would be most useful for her to retain what she learnt here. Especially if she met Leia again, on the battlefield of course. Hopefully Phasma would impress her next time.

Outside the cockpit, all the stars stretched until dark space was only a single point, and she made the giddy leap into the beyond.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This started, as most of my ships do, with a conversation with tumblr's tedtheodorelogan. I've only seen TFA the once so please forgive any mistakes I've made! (And please enjoy the mental images of jerkbaby Kylo Ren finding out Phasma's had sex with his mom... General Leia's such a MILF.)


End file.
